To the awkward dancers of the "Y"
Don't you know that you can't jive,
To any beat that is played to you,
No matter how catchy the tune.
When all moves fail you can jump,
Because elbowing people in the side isn't enough,
To keep you from being a sad wallflower,
But getting stuck in a crowded pit that devours.
Oh we are so lanky and white.
And our generation is not as quite,
Characterized by our form or our grace too,
But on a boring weekend what else are you suppose to do?